Keep Moving
by ardavenport
Summary: Obi-Wan goes along with his Master while he pursues their back-up plan for their current mission.


**KEEP MOVING**

by ardavenport

* * *

A long hair tickled under Obi-Wan Kenobi's nose.

His Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, turned his head. The hair shifted away.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Obi-Wan cringed at the noise of his Master's heavy boots on the stairs. It sounded loud in the narrow back stairway. And the motion jolted him with every step, though he supposed it would be much worse if he could properly feel anything.

Qui-Gon looked to his right. The hair came back. Hairs this time. Irritating as they were, Obi-Wan could feel them. The paralytic might be wearing off. But he still could not move.

Dingy walls, a low ceiling and lights flashed by his watery, open eyes. Qui-Gon had to run hunched over in the cramped Gwordish back corridor.

He suddenly stopped. Obi-Wan's head flopped back, his eyes staring upward.

FFFFFFZZZZZZZII IIIIIHHHHHHHHTT TTTTTTTTT!

The lightsaber hissed on, loud in the confined space.

A small swarm of tiny, black many-legged crawlers meandered on the rough, blotchy ceiling less than a finger length from him and Obi-Wan hoped that none would drop on his face or hair because he could not move to brush them away.

SSSSccrrrrreeeeee-drrruuuhhh-uub-uuur-uub-ub-ukr-ub-ub-ukr-ubukrubukrubukr-ub-ukr-ub-ukr.

The lightsaber crackled and squealed as Qui-Gon cut another hole.

Thump!

Qui-Gon cleared the hole with a quick, sharp Force push. The sudden jolt ephemerally echoed through the whole length of Obi-Wan's body splayed over his Master's broad back, his arms around his neck. Despite his immobility, he still felt the Force, strong and vibrant, but his paralysis left him detached from the flow of strength that his Master so freely used for their escape. And to carry his stupid, twenty year-old Padawan slung over his shoulders.

Obi-Wan would hear his Master's admonishments 'to be mindful' for quite some time after this mission.

The curve of the new hole in the wall, still red hot, passed close by his head as Qui-Gon stepped through. His Master had been careful to keep anything from touching or bumping into his head, but Obi-Wan would check for bruises in other places later, when he could move again.

Qui-Gon stood up to his full height, pausing in this new place. He ran.

His boot steps echoed in the cavernous space, with only a few lumen panels above amidst black shadows and conduits. Chrome and smoothed colored surfaces with round reflectors and dark transpari-screens passed by. They were in a vehicle storage area. Racks and racks of enclosed Gwordi-sized speeders, tucked away for later use.

An engine rumbled to life. And another, echoing in the distance. This was an active garage.

Senses tuned (the Force could still aid him in that), Obi-Wan listened, but there was no warning that anyone else in the garage was looking for them. Yet.

Qui-Gon stopped suddenly, throwing Obi-Wan's head back again. Seeing only blackness and dull silvery ventilation ducts above, he wished that his Master would stop doing that.

In his mind came a faint flicker of an apology. And a reminder of their need for haste. This close, in physical contact, the Force easily transmitted the traces of his Master's thoughts to him. Obi-Wan sighed his own apology.

If he had only been more mindful - -

FFFFFFZZZZZZZII IIIIIHHHHHHHHTT TTTTTTTTT!

The saber reflected green light on dull gray columns. Its bright column of light glinted on the dark windows and chrome of the inactive vehicles.

DDDrruuuhhh-uub-uuh-uhuh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh-rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The blade quickly cut through thick durastone and Qui-Gon cleared another portal with a powerful Force push.

Then he turned to the right and ran further into the garage. The new hole was a decoy. Obi-Wan still sensed no pursuit, but there would be soon enough. The Gwordi negotiators would be desperate to catch them before they could reach the Primary Directorate. It was possible that the negotiators didn't realize that this was the Jedi's alternative objective, but they would figure it out once they realized what direction Qui-Gon was going in. His Master should take the quickest route he could find.

For long minutes his running steps sounded amidst the racks of vehicles. Obi-Wan felt an impression that his Master was looking for one to take. It would certainly make their trip easier. But not even the Force would allow his large Master to fit into a Gwardi-sized two-seater and that seemed to be all there was in this garage.

Qui-Gon did stop once, his arm reaching behind him to grasp Obi-Wan's belt and hike him up higher on his back. The hood of the robe scrunched under Obi-Wan's cheek. There was a tugging on his shoulders. Qui-Gon had tied his wrists together with the cord from his belt and carried him slung over his back. The folds of his tunic and robe sleeves would cushion the binding, but he really couldn't tell. It would have been easier to carry him over his shoulders, but the corridors had been too narrow to that.

Something boomed and clanged on another level. Obi-Wan heard voices before an engine started. Something larger than a two-person speeder.

Qui-Gon ran faster.

And stopped. Bending forward so Obi-Wan's head didn't fall back.

! Ssssss-RRREEEE-rrrrrr-uh-rrrr-uh-rrr-uhhhh!

His Master's lightsaber activated again and cut another hole in front of them. Qui-Gon bent down to go through.

This new room was dark. Green light shone on high stacks of storage containers. Qui-Gon moved forward, a wall of tan and white containers on their right. Qui-Gon turned left and moved past more containers.

White light suddenly appeared.

SSSssssssssssss ssssssssssttttt ttttttTTTT!

The lightsaber deactivated.

"Sir? Sir? I'm sorry, Sir, but customers are not allowed in here."

"My apologies. I was . . . . looking for the fresher. My friend here is not feeling well."

Obi-Wan saw a middle-aged Gwordi male wearing a white and yellow checked uniform, his dull blond hair bristling under a white cylindrical cap. The Gwordi stared up at him. He was barely half Qui-Gon's height. Gwordi were more or less Humanoid in their faces and numbers of limbs and fingers. They tended toward large eyes and round cheeks with skin color ranging from pale oxygen-atmosphere blue to deep indigo. This one's skin tone was somewhere in the middle.

"Of . . . course," he continued, his voice vague, his blue eyes somewhat cross-eyed and unfocused, obviously from Qui-Gon's mind influence to convince him that it was perfectly normal for Qui-Gon's 'friend' to be slung over his back. "The fresher is out there. In the corridor on your left."

"Thank-you for your assistance. I can find my own way." Qui-Gon quickly left the confused man behind him. He strolled out the door into a well lit corridor and turned to his right.

They were in an open area. Obi-Wan saw a wall of metal shelves, stacked with colorful boxes and shiny bags. Subdued neutral background music played above a low background noise of people and motion. There were savory scents in the air. Qui-Gon kept moving.

They were in a large commercial shopping barn. They passed a couple of stout Sullustan women pushing a floater cart before them, loaded with canisters and boxes and several potted plants. They whispered to one another, but Obi-Wan couldn't hear what they said and their visors covered their expressions. Qui-Gon turned a corner, leaving them behind.

"Hello, Madam. You don't need to buy anything. You have quite enough things at home."

Obi-Wan glimpsed a dazed-looking Gwordi woman as Qui-Gon hurried off around a corner and down another aisle. He stopped, moved to the side and then lower. Obi-Wan thought his legs were touching the ground. His arms were raised high enough to come up over Qui-Gon's head. Then his Master quickly turned around and grabbed him, hauling him into a sitting position.

Qui-Gon had taken a floater cart from the last woman he spoke to. Now he arranged Obi-Wan's limp body on it, propping him up in a sitting position between two boxes. Arranging his arms so that the binding was less visible in the folds of the robe, Qui-Gon lastly leaned close, his hand pressed to Obi-Wan's chest, his dark blue eyes inquiring for any sign of distress.

Unable to move, even blink, Obi-Wan knew he was in no immediate danger. So, Qui-Gon knew it, too. Along with his pure embarrassment about becoming such a liability on this mission.

His bearded face still close, a corner of Qui-Gon's lips curved upward. He pulled the hood over Obi-Wan's head, partially concealing him, but still allowing him to see forward. Then he reached over to the side and put a couple of canisters around Obi-Wan's knees. They had bright pictures of stewed vegetables on them. The cart moved forward, pushed by Qui-Gon.

Other shoppers glanced their way, but most of them seemed too busy to take notice. Up front was a phallanx of service droids, scanning all the purchases and displaying the totals and credit deductions for the customers before packaging everything for them.

Qui-Gon got into a line for larger non-Gwordi species. The droid ahead clicked and binged and whirred. It's extending arms swiftly wrapped the purchases, thanked the shopper and turned to the next person in the slow moving line ahead of them.

Was his heart beating faster? His breath quickening? Obi-Wan wasn't sure. Not completely numb, he focused his mind on what he could feel. The fabric of his hood on his neck. The canisters of stewed vegetables poking his legs. The hard floater under his bottom and the rear plate at his back. His eyes watered, but there was no other irritation so far. Was there a tingle at one ankle?

He had not even been shot with the Secretary Chanet's dart gun. Qui-Gon had blocked her attempt to immobilize them with the stiff place mat from the negotiating table. Chanet had shrunk back, intimidated by the Jedi Master's quick reaction and wordless rebuke. That was part of their mission, to finalize, in person, the trade agreements between the Gwordi Union and the Zangren Systems that had been worked out through hyperspace transmissions. The Gwordi were notorious for taking dignitaries hostage to gain advantage. So, the Zangren had asked the Jedi to represent them. Because no one would be foolish enough to try hold a Jedi hostage.

Except the Gwordi.

_Without a backward glance, Qui-Gon had handed the place mat back to Obi-Wan and asked Secretary Chanet to please continue with her world's final agreement statement. Obi-Wan, eyes forward, took the pierced mat - -_

_- - surprised, Qui-Gon had whirled around to look at the bloody puncture in his Padawan's hand and at the mat where Obi-Wan had grabbed it without minding where the dart poked out the other side._

_Without waiting for the paralytic to take effect, Qui-Gon had leapt up, lightsaber whirling through furniture and droids, to drive the others out of the room and allow for the Jedi to escape to the warren of service corridors of the building before Obi-Wan collapsed._

The service droid up ahead clicked and binged and whirred. They were next in line.

Straining to feel, to move, Obi-Wan fiercely thought his unease to his Master. If the negotiators could use the city computers to trace Qui-Gon's identification through his Republic datarie card they could be surrounded in minutes. But . . . . the negotiator's sphere of influence was limited. And they may not even think that their intended hostages would be buying groceries.

The droid's blunt pincers at the end of its extending arms grasped and turned items on their cart, the scanning light at the end of the snake cable briefly flashing pink over the vegetable canisters.

The droid asked Qui-Gon what type of packaging he preferred, but he declined any and pushed the cart out toward the open exit.

There was no 'outside' in the Gwordi city, a three-dimensional underground sprawl of tunnels and caverns. No one lived on the airless, radiation hardened surface of this world. Excluding the flashing commercial signs and the clusters of bushes under sunny artificial lights, it was even darker and more closed in than the lower levels of Coruscant, just a bit cleaner.

Most of the shoppers coming and going to the entrance were Gwordi though there were other, mostly taller species. Humans, Twi'leks, Sullustans, Luquirds, Talz and others. Most of the people leaving went straight to a row of attendant droids who would escort them to vehicles that emerged from a parking area below. They would board, rise and then speed into one of several transit tubes. Unlike Coruscant with it's fast and open lanes, traffic was permitted only in designated transit tubes here.

"Ooooooaaaahhh!You'reAJedi!IknowYou'reAJedi!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!WeLearnedAboutYouInClass! Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!AreYouGoingToThePrimary! - -"

The high-pitched voice came from behind and to Obi-Wan's left. He sensed a flush of alarm from his Master. He strained and . . . did his hands just twitch?

"Yes. I am. And I am looking for a transport to the Directorate. Do you know of one? One large enough to take myself and my friend here?" Qui-Gon's surprise had subsided, his voice low and calm.

"I'mTooYoungToHaveMyOwnTransport!ICameOnThePublicTube!ButYou'reTooBigForThat!AaahAah!WhyAreYouSoBig?" A diminutive figure moved into Obi-Wan's line of sight. "IsThisYourFriend?You'reNotSupposedTo RideOnTheStoreF loaters!AndYeeech!PickledDubish!YouDon'tEatTHAT?"

It was a Gwordi youngling. Large head, big purple eyes, dark blue skin and short bristly greenish-brown hair. He. . . . .no, she wore a white top trimmed in metallic gold, tall blue socks and large rounded bright green soft shoes. She was barely as tall as Qui-Gon's kneecaps, but what she lacked in size she made up in energy, pointing and excitedly talking in one long run-on sentence.

Obi-Wan strained. There was definitely a tingling in his hands.

"Unfortunately, we do not have time to look. We need to find a transport large enough to take us both."

"Oooooh!-You're-too-big-for-the-people-transports!-You're-so-big!-But-you-could-fit-in-one-of-the-store-delivery-vans!"

Qui-Gon's mind influence only seemed to have slightly slowed down the girl's enthusiasm. At least her exclamations were a little easier to make out. In his side vision, he saw Qui-Gon's dark brown robe. Then his hands were raised and his Master was lifting him up onto his back again, his feet dangling behind the larger man. Down on the ground, the Gwordi youngling hopped and pointed.

"The transports are this way, then?" Qui-Gon quickly walked along the side of the commercial barn outer wall. The youngling energetically skipped with him.

"Ooooooh-yes!They're-in-a-BIG-yard-on-the-side!-My-Haha-usually-has-our-groceries-delivered-but-I-got-my-allowance-today-and-I-came-because-the-sweet-depot-gets-fresh-ootobahs-on-MilisDay-and-they-are-soooooo-goooood!-And-My-Chichi-says-that-they're-bad-for-your-teeth-but-I-ALWAYS-clean-after-I-eat-one-I'm-big-enough-to-come-here-by-myself-to-buy-my-own!-Not-like-my-little-brother!-He's-just-a-cry-imi!Aaaah!Aaaah!"

"Yes, I see that you are very mature." Qui-Gon spoke in a pleasant, placating voice and Obi-Wan doubted that she would notice the patronizing tone. "What is your name?"

_No, no, no, no, no, Master, no, no, no!_

"Boofi-Udamak-Bassit!-Udamak-is-my-Chichi!-Bassit-is-my-Haha!-And-Boofi-is-me!- Me-me-me-me-me-me!" Hop, hop, hop, hop. Obi-Wan saw the top of her head bouncing in and out of his field of view, partially obscured by Qui-Gon's long brown hair and hood bunched up by his face. The hairs tickled even more. Up close, he saw a few silvery strands that he had never noticed before.

"Aaaaah, I see a transport we can use. Our mission is very important. We are going to the Directorate. I don't believe any of the attendants here will mind if we take this one. It will be returned before they miss it."

"Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!Ooooh!-Can-I-sit-up-front!- - "

_No, no, no, Master! Please don't take her with us! No, no, no, nooooooooooooooooo!_

Obi-Wan's body remained frustratingly immobile, but the tingling had crept into all his limbs now. And his forehead.

"Yes, if you can show me to the Directorate. But we need to get there as quickly as possible," Qui-Gon admonished.

"Ooooh!-I-can-do-that!-I-can-do-that!-I-go-to-school-in-the-Dobiah!-That's-really-close!-My-Chichi-takes-me!-I-do-maths-and-poems-and-I-can-dance!" Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Hop, hop, hop, hop, hop.

_Nooooo, Master, no!_

Qui-Gon could sense Obi-Wan's objection. He was just ignoring it.

The front side of the transport was white and chrome and black padded seats. The pilot's seat was ridiculously cramped, but with enough head room so that if Qui-Gon sat with his knees at he shoulders, he could fit. Obi-Wan dully felt his limbs colliding with interior seats and panels as his Master hauled him back to a rear-facing center seat and strapped him in. Then he leaned close, his breath warm on Obi-Wan's cheek.

"Relax, my young Padawan. Feel the moment and the Force flowing through you. You are trying too hard," he said in a low and calming voice that sounded too similar to the tone he used with young Boofi.

After they were strapped in up front, the transport lifted off. Just before they entered a transit tube, Obi-Wan heard a loud, blaring alarm from below.

"I-help-my-Chichi-take-my-little-brother-and-my-little-sisters - - "

Boofi described everything she and her family did on her trips riding into the city center with her parents while Obi-Wan watched the traffic behind them. He could see more than two dozen speeders in the big transit tube. They were in a perfect place to be trapped by the negotiators' security, but it would be very hard to actually catch them without causing serious mayhem. The worst outcome for the negotiators would be if anybody, especially the Jedi, were injured or killed. The current negotiators and their policies would be immediately replaced if that happened. In the extremely decentralized governance of the Gwordi, the negotiators had complete authority in their actions; all they had to do was prove that their methods were beneficial and profitable for the Gwordi Union. But if they didn't, they would be removed from their duties.

A siren started up behind them. A flashing light appeared from around a distant curve in the transit tube.

"- - We-always-go-this-way!-And-sometimes-we-stop-here-and-turn-around-when-Chichi-forgets-something-and-Haha-gets-mad - -"

The view in the rear window dove quickly downward. The restraints pulled on Obi-Wan's body as he was pushed back and side to side with the quickly changing accelerations.

Qui-Gon had been right. He had been straining against the paralysis, not letting the Force flow through him at all. He knew better. Unfortunately, it had not translated into voluntary motion yet. Just increased feeling over his whole body. And twitches. And cramps. But at least he could blink now.

" EEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEE-eeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaa=iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! "

Boofi's shriek dissolved into high-pitched giggles. The crazily changing view in the rear window stabilized. They still traveled in the same direction, just outside the transit tube and wildly dodging support struts while skimming the solid rock walls of the tunnel.

Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack!

Obi-Wan saw glinting, colored debris fluttering downward in their wake as they passed into an open cavern.

"Oh-we-always-turn-here!-We-always-turn-here!-We're-really-close! - - "

The straps pressed into his shoulders. A view of bright lights and a huge tangle of conduits whirled by in the rear window while Boofi rapidly shrieked out landmarks and why her little brother was such a spoiled brat if he didn't get a treat for doing his chores in their home.

Did his Master have to bring the youngling along to guide them? Didn't this delivery transport have a navicomp?

A crowd ran through a garden plaza. Red and orange lights flashed rapidly. Small speeders scattered behind them. A siren started up right next to them and then quickly fell behind as Qui-Gon accelerated into another transit tube.

A torrent of the Force flowed through his Master, taking them through every quick dip and jolt of their transport zipping past the smaller speeders traveling at legal speeds.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth wide. His ears popped. Every cramped cell of his body ached to move, to stretch and relieve the agony of immobility.

A booming alarm and an amplified voice sounded throughout the tube.

"ALL VEHICLES MUST HALT IMMEDIATELY - - "

"Ooooh-oooh-oooh-ooh!-They'reClosingTheDoors!They'reClosingTheDoors!TheyNEVERCloseT heDoorsLessTher e'sSomethingREALLYSpecial'sGoingOn! - - "

Faster than their forward motion, the Force shot ahead of them from his Master. Obi-Wan gasped from the power.

"OoooooohThey'reOpeningThey'reOpening!"

Their transport spun to the side. The tube exit fell away behind them, its shield doors half closed. A swarm of flashing police speeders, briefly immobile, suddenly turned and zoomed after them. Their transport dove down.

Obi-Wan clinched his fists and exhaled sharply, finally connecting to the electric current of the Force surrounding him.

A pedestrian bridge overhead, crowds, sleek towers and struts, lights, flashing signs, police speeders spun by the rear window before they accelerated upward, the ground quickly falling below them. Qui-Gon had found his destination.

"Cover your eyes little one."

"Oooooooooooooooo-eeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeEEEEEEE EEEEEEE!"

The last turn would have flung Obi-Wan out the back of the transport without the restraining straps.

CCCCCCCCRRRRRRA AAAAAAAASSSSSSH HHHHHHHHH!

A shower of crystalline destruction fell behind them, sparkling shards cascading away and downward. Obi-Wan's body slammed forward into the seat back.

They stopped.

The tinkling rain of broken tansparisteel rapidly diminished.

The front transport door whooshed open. His Master's feet landed on broken wreckage and strode away. Obi-Wan slammed his hand on the restraint release and the straps retracted.

"Ooooooooooooooh."

Obi-Wan twisted his body around just in time to catch Boofi, keeping her from bouncing after his Master, who now towered over a bright white curved table of astonished Gwordi officials. They had arrived at the Primary Directorate's council chambers.

Boofi squirmed.

"Hush, young one. Qui-Gon needs to speak. You don't want him to say that you behaved like your little brother?"

Boofi tensed and clamped her mouth shut in wide-eyed shock. Obi-Wan gave her a proud smile. He had not even needed to use any Force influence on the child's mind for this argument to silence her. He pointed.

"Now watch. And behave. Your parents will be very pleased with you."

Secretary Chanet had already beat them to the Primary Directorate. But Qui-Gon had made a _much_ more dramatic entrance.

"The Jedi will _not_ be held hostage for petty gain, Councillors. It is the Directorate's choice. If you wish to honorably pursue any lasting trade agreements in this region of space, you will find the Zangren Systems willing partners. But their patience for deception is not unlimited." Qui-Gon paced as he spoke, his shadow falling over the cringing Councillors, his shear size forcing Chanet to retreat or risk being stepped on.

After a short display of dramatics, Secretary Chanet was stripped of her position. The Council promised to accept the negotiated treaty just as soon new representatives were appointed. They begged Qui-Gon for a few hours indulgence. He bowed and granted it.

Obi-Wan clumsily clambered out of the transport just as Qui-Gon returned with a yellow-uniformed and muscular Gwordi half his height.

"This is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. And our guide, Boofi-Udamak-Bassit**."**

Lifting Boofi up from the transport, Obi-Wan set her down on the ground. Like a spring suddenly released, she hopped up and down ecstatically waving her little arms, her gold trimmed white top flapping.

"IHelpedTheJedi!IHelpedTheJedi! WeWentWhooshWhooshWhoosh! ThroughTheTubes ReallyReallyFAS T AndTheGuardSpee dersChasedUsREA LLYREALLY FAST! And - - "

"If you could return her to her parents, we and they would be most grateful. And we thank them for their daughter's timely assistance," Qui-Gon said over the run-on chatter. Looking worried, the Gwordi nodded and guided the bouncing youngling away, their feet crunching over the scatter of debris on the floor.

Obi-Wan's shoulders slumped. He could move, finally. Just as Qui-Gon completed their mission. He hung his head.

"I was careless, Master. I have no excuse. I endangered our mission, and you, by not minding what I was doing." He held out his palm. It still itched from where the dart had punctured the skin, the small bit of blood on it smeared and dried.

Qui-Gon took his hand in both his larger ones to examine the slight wound. He smiled and nodded. "It was an easy mistake to make. For a Padawan." Obi-Wan clenched his teeth, but it was true. He lowered his eyes again.

"Obi-Wan."

His head shot up as the older man grabbed his wrists and pulled his arms straight up over his head so high that his boot tips barely touched the ground. His robe and tunic sleeves slipped down from the closely-fitting undertunic sleeves covering his arms. Gasping, his head fell back. The sudden unexpected stretch felt _wonderful._ His whole body was now a single rigid rod of blissful relief. The random cramping spasms coalesced into a single smooth flex of muscle and bone.

Gradually, Qui-Gon lowered his arms straight out at his sides while he breathed deeply. In. Out. The air. The Force.

Qui-Gon released his wrists.

"Better?" he asked. Obi-Wan nodded, lowering his arms to his sides and guiltily aware that his Master had seen his own body's need before he had.

"Yes, Master. Thank-you."

Qui-Gon put an arm over his shoulders. "Good. The Directorate has assigned a comfortable place for us to wait in while they gather new representatives." His Master guided him away from the transport. He kicked and stumbled on some of the debris on the floor, but his Master caught him.

"Sorry."

"You will improve, my young Padawan," he reassured. "In the meantime, I think you will continue to feel better if you keep moving."

**

* * *

***)(***)(*** END ***)(***)(*****

This story is also posted on tf.n, 24-May-2010

**Disclaimer:** All characters and the _Star Wars_ universe belong to George and Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.


End file.
